Coriolanus
ACT II SCENE I. Rome. A public place. | ||
[ Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. ] | ||
MENENIUS | The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. | |
BRUTUS | Good or bad? | |
MENENIUS | Not according to the prayer of the people, for they | |
love not Marcius. | ||
SICINIUS | Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. | 5 |
MENENIUS | Pray you, who does the wolf love? | |
SICINIUS | The lamb. | |
MENENIUS | Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the | |
noble Marcius. | ||
BRUTUS | He’s a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. | 10 |
MENENIUS | He’s a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two | |
are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. | ||
Both | Well, sir. | |
MENENIUS | In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two | |
have not in abundance? | 15 | |
BRUTUS | He’s poor in no one fault, but stored with all. | |
SICINIUS | Especially in pride. | |
BRUTUS | And topping all others in boasting. | |
MENENIUS | This is strange now: do you two know how you are | |
censured here in the city, I mean of us o’ the | 20 | |
right-hand file? do you? | ||
Both | Why, how are we censured? | |
MENENIUS | Because you talk of pride now,–will you not be angry? | |
Both | Well, well, sir, well. | |
MENENIUS | Why, ’tis no great matter; for a very little thief of | 25 |
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: | ||
give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at | ||
your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a | ||
pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for | ||
being proud? | 30 | |
BRUTUS | We do it not alone, sir. | |
MENENIUS | I know you can do very little alone; for your helps | |
are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous | ||
single: your abilities are too infant-like for | ||
doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you | 35 | |
could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, | ||
and make but an interior survey of your good selves! | ||
O that you could! | ||
BRUTUS | What then, sir? | |
MENENIUS | Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, | 40 |
proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as | ||
any in Rome. | ||
SICINIUS | Menenius, you are known well enough too. | |
MENENIUS | I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that | |
loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying | 45 | |
Tiber in’t; said to be something imperfect in | ||
favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like | ||
upon too trivial motion; one that converses more | ||
with the buttock of the night than with the forehead | ||
of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my | 50 | |
malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as | ||
you are–I cannot call you Lycurguses–if the drink | ||
you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a | ||
crooked face at it. I can’t say your worships have | ||
delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in | 55 | |
compound with the major part of your syllables: and | ||
though I must be content to bear with those that say | ||
you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that | ||
tell you you have good faces. If you see this in | ||
the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known | 60 | |
well enough too? what barm can your bisson | ||
conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be | ||
known well enough too? | ||
BRUTUS | Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. | |
MENENIUS | You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You | 65 |
are ambitious for poor knaves’ caps and legs: you | ||
wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a | ||
cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; | ||
and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a | ||
second day of audience. When you are hearing a | 70 | |
matter between party and party, if you chance to be | ||
pinched with the colic, you make faces like | ||
mummers; set up the bloody flag against all | ||
patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, | ||
dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled | 75 | |
by your hearing: all the peace you make in their | ||
cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are | ||
a pair of strange ones. | ||
BRUTUS | Come, come, you are well understood to be a | |
perfecter giber for the table than a necessary | 80 | |
bencher in the Capitol. | ||
MENENIUS | Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall | |
encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When | ||
you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the | ||
wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not | 85 | |
so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher’s | ||
cushion, or to be entombed in an ass’s pack- | ||
saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; | ||
who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors | ||
since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the | 90 | |
best of ’em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to | ||
your worships: more of your conversation would | ||
infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly | ||
plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you. | ||
[BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside] | ||
[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA] | ||
How now, my as fair as noble ladies,–and the moon, | 95 | |
were she earthly, no nobler,–whither do you follow | ||
your eyes so fast? | ||
VOLUMNIA | Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for | |
the love of Juno, let’s go. | ||
MENENIUS | Ha! Marcius coming home! | 100 |
VOLUMNIA | Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous | |
approbation. | ||
MENENIUS | Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! | |
Marcius coming home! | ||
VIRGILIA | Nay,’tis true. | 105 |
VOLUMNIA | Look, here’s a letter from him: the state hath | |
another, his wife another; and, I think, there’s one | ||
at home for you. | ||
MENENIUS | I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for | |
me! | 110 | |
VIRGILIA | Yes, certain, there’s a letter for you; I saw’t. | |
MENENIUS | A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven | |
years’ health; in which time I will make a lip at | ||
the physician: the most sovereign prescription in | ||
Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, | 115 | |
of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he | ||
not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. | ||
VIRGILIA | O, no, no, no. | |
VOLUMNIA | O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for’t. | |
MENENIUS | So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a’ | 120 |
victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. | ||
VOLUMNIA | On’s brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home | |
with the oaken garland. | ||
MENENIUS | Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? | |
VOLUMNIA | Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but | 125 |
Aufidius got off. | ||
MENENIUS | And ’twas time for him too, I’ll warrant him that: | |
an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so | ||
fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold | ||
that’s in them. Is the senate possessed of this? | 130 | |
VOLUMNIA | Good ladies, let’s go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate | |
has letters from the general, wherein he gives my | ||
son the whole name of the war: he hath in this | ||
action outdone his former deeds doubly | ||
VALERIA | In troth, there’s wondrous things spoke of him. | 135 |
MENENIUS | Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his | |
true purchasing. | ||
VIRGILIA | The gods grant them true! | |
VOLUMNIA | True! pow, wow. | |
MENENIUS | True! I’ll be sworn they are true. | 140 |
Where is he wounded? | ||
[To the Tribunes] | ||
God save your good worships! Marcius is coming | ||
home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? | ||
VOLUMNIA | I’ the shoulder and i’ the left arm there will be | |
large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall | 145 | |
stand for his place. He received in the repulse of | ||
Tarquin seven hurts i’ the body. | ||
MENENIUS | One i’ the neck, and two i’ the thigh,–there’s | |
nine that I know. | ||
VOLUMNIA | He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five | 150 |
wounds upon him. | ||
MENENIUS | Now it’s twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy’s grave. | |
[A shout and flourish] | ||
Hark! the trumpets. | ||
VOLUMNIA | These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he | |
carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: | 155 | |
Death, that dark spirit, in ‘s nervy arm doth lie; | ||
Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. | ||
[ A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald ] | ||
Herald | Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight | |
Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, | ||
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these | 160 | |
In honour follows Coriolanus. | ||
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! | ||
[Flourish] | ||
All | Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! | |
CORIOLANUS | No more of this; it does offend my heart: | |
Pray now, no more. | 165 | |
COMINIUS | Look, sir, your mother! | |
CORIOLANUS | O, | |
You have, I know, petition’d all the gods | ||
For my prosperity! | ||
[Kneels] | ||
VOLUMNIA | Nay, my good soldier, up; | 170 |
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and | ||
By deed-achieving honour newly named,– | ||
What is it?–Coriolanus must I call thee?– | ||
But O, thy wife! | ||
CORIOLANUS | My gracious silence, hail! | 175 |
Wouldst thou have laugh’d had I come coffin’d home, | ||
That weep’st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, | ||
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, | ||
And mothers that lack sons. | ||
MENENIUS | Now, the gods crown thee! | 180 |
CORIOLANUS | And live you yet? | |
[To VALERIA] | ||
O my sweet lady, pardon. | ||
VOLUMNIA | I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: | |
And welcome, general: and ye’re welcome all. | ||
MENENIUS | A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep | 185 |
And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome. | ||
A curse begin at very root on’s heart, | ||
That is not glad to see thee! You are three | ||
That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, | ||
We have some old crab-trees here | 190 | |
at home that will not | ||
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: | ||
We call a nettle but a nettle and | ||
The faults of fools but folly. | ||
COMINIUS | Ever right. | 195 |
CORIOLANUS | Menenius ever, ever. | |
Herald | Give way there, and go on! | |
CORIOLANUS | [To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours: | |
Ere in our own house I do shade my head, | ||
The good patricians must be visited; | 200 | |
From whom I have received not only greetings, | ||
But with them change of honours. | ||
VOLUMNIA | I have lived | |
To see inherited my very wishes | ||
And the buildings of my fancy: only | 205 | |
There’s one thing wanting, which I doubt not but | ||
Our Rome will cast upon thee. | ||
CORIOLANUS | Know, good mother, | |
I had rather be their servant in my way, | ||
Than sway with them in theirs. | 210 | |
COMINIUS | On, to the Capitol! | |
[ Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward ] | ||
BRUTUS | All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights | |
Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse | ||
Into a rapture lets her baby cry | ||
While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins | 215 | |
Her richest lockram ’bout her reechy neck, | ||
Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, | ||
Are smother’d up, leads fill’d, and ridges horsed | ||
With variable complexions, all agreeing | ||
In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens | 220 | |
Do press among the popular throngs and puff | ||
To win a vulgar station: or veil’d dames | ||
Commit the war of white and damask in | ||
Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil | ||
Of Phoebus’ burning kisses: such a pother | 225 | |
As if that whatsoever god who leads him | ||
Were slily crept into his human powers | ||
And gave him graceful posture. | ||
SICINIUS | On the sudden, | |
I warrant him consul. | 230 | |
BRUTUS | Then our office may, | |
During his power, go sleep. | ||
SICINIUS | He cannot temperately transport his honours | |
From where he should begin and end, but will | ||
Lose those he hath won. | 235 | |
BRUTUS | In that there’s comfort. | |
SICINIUS | Doubt not | |
The commoners, for whom we stand, but they | ||
Upon their ancient malice will forget | ||
With the least cause these his new honours, which | 240 | |
That he will give them make I as little question | ||
As he is proud to do’t. | ||
BRUTUS | I heard him swear, | |
Were he to stand for consul, never would he | ||
Appear i’ the market-place nor on him put | 245 | |
The napless vesture of humility; | ||
Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds | ||
To the people, beg their stinking breaths. | ||
SICINIUS | ‘Tis right. | |
BRUTUS | It was his word: O, he would miss it rather | 250 |
Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, | ||
And the desire of the nobles. | ||
SICINIUS | I wish no better | |
Than have him hold that purpose and to put it | ||
In execution. | 255 | |
BRUTUS | ‘Tis most like he will. | |
SICINIUS | It shall be to him then as our good wills, | |
A sure destruction. | ||
BRUTUS | So it must fall out | |
To him or our authorities. For an end, | 260 | |
We must suggest the people in what hatred | ||
He still hath held them; that to’s power he would | ||
Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and | ||
Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, | ||
In human action and capacity, | 265 | |
Of no more soul nor fitness for the world | ||
Than camels in the war, who have their provand | ||
Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows | ||
For sinking under them. | ||
SICINIUS | This, as you say, suggested | 270 |
At some time when his soaring insolence | ||
Shall touch the people–which time shall not want, | ||
If he be put upon ‘t; and that’s as easy | ||
As to set dogs on sheep–will be his fire | ||
To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze | 275 | |
Shall darken him for ever. | ||
[Enter a Messenger] | ||
BRUTUS | What’s the matter? | |
Messenger | You are sent for to the Capitol. ‘Tis thought | |
That Marcius shall be consul: | ||
I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and | 280 | |
The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, | ||
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, | ||
Upon him as he pass’d: the nobles bended, | ||
As to Jove’s statue, and the commons made | ||
A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts: | 285 | |
I never saw the like. | ||
BRUTUS | Let’s to the Capitol; | |
And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, | ||
But hearts for the event. | ||
SICINIUS | Have with you. | 290 |
[Exeunt] |
Next: Coriolanus, Act 2, Scene 2